


ʇuᴉɹԀ ǝuᴉℲ

by catherineisa



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Demon Reaper Red, Gen, Graphic Depiction of Injury., Liz is chasing breadcrumbs and Tom is still alive, M/M, Other, Raymond Reddington is Raymond Reddington, Red sold his soul, They aren't here though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineisa/pseuds/catherineisa
Summary: It was all he could do these days anyways. He could yell Reddington's ear off and he'd grin at him like Cheshire. Self satisfaction apparent even in his imagined version of the man, he tries to picture what it'd be like to slap the man.
Relationships: Aram Mojtabai & Samar Navabi, Aram Mojtabai/Samar Navabi, Elizabeth Keen/Donald Ressler (Vague/Mentioned), Raymond Reddington & Donald Ressler, Raymond Reddington/Donald Ressler, mentioned
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

It's six in the morning when he's woken up by the blare of his phone. He's groggy and he nearly drops it on the ground but he answers it just in time. He swipes it just before the sixth ring. Nick's Pizza.

Voice tired from sleep he tries to clear his throat, he doesn't get the chance to speak before he hears the voice.

“7:15. Chess boards at the park. Stay Back. Whatever happens, stay back.”

The line goes dead. He wonders briefly if Reddington meant to call Liz. The thought goes away, Reddington doesn't do things without a reason.

He wonders what the endgame is this time. They'd solved the last case several days ago, there had been a hacker who was threatening Reddington's bank accounts. Reddington had hid that fact from them until the very last moment when he'd kidnapped the man and tortured him into relinquishing the accounts and money. It angered Ressler but he'd had no choice except to just clench his jaw and not say anything.

It was all he could do these days anyways. He could yell Reddington's ear off and he'd grin at him like Cheshire. Self satisfaction apparent even in his imagined version of the man, he tries to picture what it'd be like to slap the man but can't summon it. He can't imagine it. He remembers a time when someone had gone behind his back- He hadn't known what for- and the man had had plenty of rings on each hand and Ressler had to stand there as Reddington put each and every ring on and beat the man, near to death. He'd seen Reddington kill people point blank range before, but nothing bothered so much as seeing Reddington so close, so brutal.

He escapes the thought by distracting himself with the thought, the satisfaction that there's things about Donald that Reddington doesn't know. That he can be ruthless too.

It doesn't take him long to put on a basic pair of black sleep pants and black t-shirt. Even getting to the park doesn't take him so long. He looks around and at his watch. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he's greeted by a text. “Nick's Pizza: Stay back. Look distracted. Busy.”

He looks around but doesn't see anyone so he sits on the bench across from the chess tables before deciding to settle himself at one of the chess tables. He sets the phone face down on the table, not bothering to answer the text. Whatever cryptic shit Reddington is up to, he feels it won't end well for either of them, he thinks briefly that he doesn't really care what happens to Reddington.

He lays his palms flat on the table, on either side of the phone. It buzzes and he fights the urge to check it, ultimately taking his hands off of the concrete table.

He looks around and in another couple of minutes, Reddington saunters to a bench, he doesn't even glance over at Ressler and he remembers the text. “Distracted. Busy.” He pulls a velcro bag of chess pieces out from their place from under the table, also velcro. He winces as he pulls the bag out. Lining up the pieces in what he thinks is the right order. His phone buzzes. He ignores it.

He glances up at Reddington as he arranges the pieces again, differently this time. Not in the manner of Chess, but like a child would if given the pieces. He huffs and knocks them over when the thought pops in his head. There's not much do do with Chess pieces when you don't know how to play the game so he decides to just play Checkers with them, he pictures Reddington's smug face but doesn't look up.

In his periphery he sees a man pass him, he looks up briefly, going back to his game before the man can look in his face. He sees a scar and a holster but glancing back up at the man would surely clock him. He looks like every stereotypical TV drug dealer. The man is facing Reddington but paying no mind to Ressler and his pathetic Checkers game. He sees the bulge of a holster outlined in his coat and briefly regrets not bringing his sidearm. He doesn't dwell on it as a seemingly quiet meeting goes down between the two. He tries not to linger for too long so he packs up the game and makes his way around the fountain, feeling the stone edge and dipping his hand in the water. He props himself against the fountain where he can still see Reddington on the other side. He runs his hands in the water, seeing the various coins at the bottom and lamenting he doesn't have one of his own to throw in. He doesn't even have his wallet, just his keys and a business card for a restaurant downtown that had been in his pockets when he put the pants on, he still hadn't gone.

Reddington looks languidly at him but he doesn't see it. He's counting the coins at the bottom of the pond, for lack of anything better to do.

He can't catch any fragments of what the two men are saying but his skin prickles when the man gets up. He can't do anything or say anything. Reddington told him not to, even though he doesn't trust Reddington, he knows that when he says something he means it. Especially when he's not beating around the bush about it.

Ressler is forced to trust Red on a near daily basis at this point, There's nothing he can do to change it and if he does he risks losing the intel gained from Reddington as well as the possibility of losing his job.

He tries to settle his nerves as he braces himself on the edge of the fountain. The man pulls the gun out of his holster and before Ressler can ground himself and remind himself of what Reddington's express directions were he's moving. Darting towards the man, he shoves himself over the curved edge of the stone fountain. He tears the thin fabric of his sleep pants and the flesh on his leg, he hisses inwardly.

He tries to wrench the gun out of the man's hand but he's quicker.

He looks into the mans face and suddenly he doesn't quite look like a man. He's got scarred skin and it's a garish red, Ressler touches the skin on the mans wrist and comes away as if burned, he cups his palm with his other hand as the skin blisters before his eyes. He gazes at the man again and notices nasty horns protruding out of his head, they're red and gnarled. Curving at the base of his skull and cracked. Reddington is standing now but he doesn't look quite so alarmed at the being in front of him. Ressler wonders if he can see the mans true appearance. He wouldn't be surprised.

He tries to warn Reddington but the man doesn't budge, as if he's made peace with what's happening.

The red man snarls at him. Reddington closes his eyes.

“Should have read the fine print.” The man's voice is deep but he's hissing the sentence. He's got a forked tongue and it looks like Medusa's snakes are sneaking out of the man's mouth. Ressler nearly falls over, nothing feels real. There are very few people in and around the park and none of them seem to be paying any mind anyway. Ressler feels like he's going insane, moreso than usual. There's an urgency in the situation he hasn't felt since Garrick. His heart is pounding and the sight of the unusual red man is enough to send his heart into spirals of fear. Reddington still seems unaffected by it. The man put his hand on Ressler's shoulder and he nearly screams in agony as the man's hand print is burned into his shoulder. He grits his teeth so hard he feels like they might break and falls to the ground as his head gets dizzy. He's propped up against the fountain back angled crookedly but he can't bring himself to move, the burns on his shoulder and wrist are simmering and he can feel the pulsing sensation in the muscle as his body slowly shifts downwards onto the cool concrete. His cheek is pressed against the coarse cement and he can feel it prickling against his skin. He can't do anything but watch as the Unusual Man shoots the gun.

It's an odd moment where the gun goes off but there's no noise emanating from it. He can still see the impact of the bullet in Reddington's skull though, he can see fragments of his skull hit the pavement from where he is and the blood pouring out of his nose. Reddington crumples on the pavement and he looks up and the Unusual Man is gone. No sign he'd ever been there at all. Ressler takes the chance to get up but presses his weight on his burned palm to get up. He feels the forming blisters pop as his weight and the coarse material of the ground work together against him. He collapses for a moment before recollecting himself and rising, tumbling over to Reddington's body.

His eyes are open and the blood is running out of his nose and mouth. Ressler feels numb as he puts his good arm around the back of Reddington's neck as he props him up against himself, making sure he's truly dead. Reddington stares blankly back at him as he checks his pulse. The blood has dried and cracked on his face in areas where there's less of it. Ressler cradles him to his chest stunned when he can't find a pulse. He sits like that for a couple minutes before dropping the man back onto the pavement, searching for any type of movement, partly still thinking Reddington would know how to fake it to get out of their deal. Not their deal, but to Ressler it feels like he himself made a deal with the devil and now he's being screwed. He stumbles to his phone on the Chess table, struggling to enter the three digits with the blood and burns.

He finally gets the number but he can't quite find his voice.

He finally get it out about what has happened, without recounting the Unusual Man. The woman's voice is calm as she tells him to tell her where he is and stay on the line but before he can speak he collapses on the ground again. This time unconscious.

He wakes up to a paramedic treating him while he sits on the ledge of the ambulance while another zips a body bag carrying Reddington's lifeless body.

His eyes are still open.

The paramedic has cut through his charred shirt and is trying not to make eye contact with him. He looks down at the bandage on his hand and tries to gauge how long he'd been out.

The man tries to subtly call over one of his colleagues but Ressler clocks him right away. Ressler doesn't meet their eyes as they stare at him. He looks past them towards the black bag. Reddington's arm has fallen out, budging the zipper open. Ressler can't look for long before he feels nauseous. He can't fully believe that the man is dead but the proof is right in front of him.

“Sir. Can you tell us what happened to your shoulder here?”

“I couldn't even begin to explain. Even if I tried.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harold Cooper is called in early on to investigate a death in the park, supposedly related to Raymond Reddington. He goes to call Ressler in only to find him at the scene already staring blankly at a zipped body bag with paramedics swarming him.

Cooper shoves his phone back into his pocket and strides over to the man, gesturing for the paramedics to leave momentarily.

“I was just about to call you. You know? Liz is running up details about Reddington's possible former life, the team is helping her and you're what I have since Navabi....”

He trails off, only to note that Ressler isn't just on the scene he's being treated on the scene.

“So. What can you tell me about what happened here?” Cooper takes off his glasses, folding them and crossing his arms at the same time. He looks passive but even in his haze Ressler can feel his curiosity in the air.

Why don't you ask Reddington?” He indicates vaguely toward the black plastic bag. Cooper unzips the bag slowly but it's not slow enough for Ressler and he hunches over and vomits on the light blue pavement. He's curious as to what he ate. He can't see Coopers face but the man hasn't budged from his spot. He zips the bag back up, turning back towards Donald and looks at the vomit on the ground before continuing.

“He's not answering me.” Cooper's voice is tight and his face betrays his surprise and something else possibly.

“I don't know what to say without sounding, absolutely insane.” He pulls on his cut shirt, trying to secure the bandage in his good hand, which is on the opposite side. He grasps at the medical tape, which luckily hasn't adhered itself to the burn too much. He debates pulling the tape off before he's stopped by the paramedic, who has pushes his hand over Ressler's good wrist. He utters a hushed warning against it. “News.”

On instinct Ressler doesn't even look to check before turning away from the camera, for him the news stories around him are resoundingly negative, times he hadn't caught Reddington, times he'd been around someone who'd discharged their weapon on a case, and even Liz's betrayal of the country.

Cooper checks to made sure the body bag is zipped before shielding Ressler from any outside view. The paramedics pack up their supplies and hurry up to shut the door. Ressler can see from the rectangular window that the hearse like van is being closed up as the news reporter makes her way towards it. The driver shakes his head at her as Ressler is forced away from the window.

He sits across from Cooper on one of the leather benches built into the vehicle. He opens his mouth only to be stopped by Cooper. “Whatever might come out of your mouth is likely highly classified.”

The paramedics look slightly disappointed, trying to hide it.

They're met under a close bridge by members of the post office and Cooper and Ressler depart from the ambulance, the paramedic says something hushed to Cooper that Ressler can't hear but the side glances are enough to assure him he probably doesn't want too know ~~or already does~~ anyways.

They end up in one of the warehouse tunnel ends of the Post Office as they're dropped off and the three escorts leave and head into the building. It's an odd moment of silence in the tunnel like enclosure, Ressler's shoulder burns as a shudder wracks his shoulders as the cold air in the space. He stands there silent as Cooper lights a match, starting a cigarette. Ressler cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Old habits die hard.” He leans his shoulder on the wall and shrugs. “I quit for Charlene but, things fall apart sometimes when things get hard.” He gestures toward Ressler with the cigarette. “Want one? A bit stale but...” He trails off, not quite sure what to say, not wanting to exacerbate the situation.

“No. I quit when I started the Task Force, and I don't think I would have the willpower to quit again if I took you up on it.”

Cooper makes a noise in his throat, agreement of some sort. The cigarette burns brighter as he inhales, sitting on a ledge near the opening of the warehouse. Ressler takes it as a cue for him to sit as well, although he isn't quite sure if it was intentioned that way.

“I don't think I can explain this without seeming” He pauses looking at his bandaged palm. Lowering his voice he continues. “Batshit.” He cups his hands together and hisses at the effort, he feels the bandage separate from the wound and the already formed scab pulls and cracks under it. He nearly cries out. Cooper doesn't move but he doesn't looked nonplussed either. He stops for a second, exhaling shakily. He longs for the prescriptions hidden next to his box spring. He'd staved off the temptation for about a month before going to an underground clinic and “stocking up”. He'd been ashamed but it'd been a moment of weakness. He hadn't touched them in the week since he'd got them but the burns were enough to make him reconsider.

He tries to recount what had happened but struggles to even word the experience.

“Reddington. I was there because of him. I had no idea why at the time. He'd said it was in the park. Said to stay back.”

Cooper nods. Donald continues. “He'd told me not to draw attention to myself. I didn't at first but I saw something odd, about the man that Reddington was meeting with. He was.”

“Did he have any identifying marks? Or some kind of weapon? Something alarming?” Cooper takes his glasses off and sets them on the concrete sill, stubbing out his cigarette on the side.   
“He had a weapon, it was old. Some kind of Colt, possibly Mark IV. No sound though. None. No silencer, just.” He uses his good hand to make some kind of exploding gesture but it's lost before it can describe anything meaningful. Cooper seems to get it anyways. He waves his hand in the air for him to continue. “Reddington's skull got....blown out, I guess it's the only way to describe it, oh shit. I missed.” Ressler looks towards his shoes. He trusts Cooper with his life but he's still not sure he would want to tell the man about the events in the park. Harold Cooper had been in the service with Reddington. The thought of describing the death of a man he'd known doesn't feel right, even if it's a man who'd betrayed him and his country. The part about the Unusual Man also jolts Ressler, he wonders if he should even mention it, but he can't think of a way to explain away the burns, even to himself as a reassurance.

He partly hopes that the whole ordeal is just a twisted nightmare. He can't help but admit that it doesn't feel as good as he thought it would to see Reddington dead after all these years.

It feels bitter.

He'd gotten to know the man, and although he'd never really gotten along with him, and being quite honest he'd gotten under his skin. Majorly. Working with him had changed everything though, even when Reddington had been poisoned, Ressler had done everything in his power to figure out who would have the cure. Even before then, with Anslo Garrick. Reddington could have watched him die, with Audrey, Tanida. Reddington made sure he wouldn't make the turning point mistake. ~~Not knowing he'd already made it. Years ago.~~

“There was something. Else.”

Cooper nods, not saying anything but silently urging him to continue. “I sat close, trying to hear what was being said when I noticed the man had a side arm, even just when he was walking up, I moved from my farther vantage point up closer. At the point I hadn't looked at the man. They spoke for a couple minutes before, he pulled out his gun. By then he's no longer sitting and I'm on edge.” Cooper uncrosses his arms, rubbing his palms on his pants while quietly deciding to light another cigarette.

“Who pulled the gun? Reddington?” He flicks the lighter and murmurs the word 'stale'

“The Unusual Man. He pulled a gun on Reddington. I tried to intercept.....” He trails off again, fiddling with his bandages again. He looks to the band aid on his leg through his torn pants and mulls over the different possibilities of what could've happened. Wondering if there would've been any way to stop any of it.

“I tried to pull the gun away from The Man but when I went to grab the man's hand it burned me. I can't explain it, there was nothing on his skin to suggest that something like that would happen, just.”

He exhales shakily and continues. “He said something to me, but I'm not sure if he was speaking to m or to Reddington.”

Cooper blows smoke in the air, creating plumes of acrid smoke in the enclosed space.

“What did the man say?”

“ _Should have read the fine print._ ”

Ressler stares at the wall for a second before taking in the smoke plumes. He inhales the bitter smoke.

“The closer I looked at the man, the more his appearance changed. His mouth seemed like it was full of snakes, his skin was a bright red. He pushed me down by my shoulder, and his..” He pushes the sliced t-shirt aside and peels the bandage off, the wound is sweating but what Donald is trying to show is clear. The hand shaped burn. “His hand burned into my skin and I went down. The gun went off and Reddington was dead. That's it.”

Cooper stubs the cigarette out next to the original and leans over Ressler, peeling the cotton back farther to fully take in the damage done.

“I'll be honest. I don't know what to say about this. I don't know how to start handling it either but I know I can't immediately tell the administrators of the Task Force. They'll disband it before we would even be able to figure out a plan.”

Ressler nods, not quite knowing what to say, trying to come to grips with what would happen if the Task Force dissolved.

Ressler determines he needs a moment to himself before he can even return to the office. He spots the cigarette pack out of the corner of his eye and picks it up, contemplating the very bad decision he make for a moment before the pack into a nearby puddle, drowning it with his foot.

He eventually goes in to find that Cooper has gone into his office and the Post Office is nearly empty. It's the bare bones midnight crew, at midday. By now it's one in the afternoon and not even Aram is around. He knows where Elizabeth and by extension Tom are working, or at least what they're working on.

Ressler steps carefully through the office as if The Unusual Man is going to pop in behind him and finish him off. He couldn't explain any of his encounter with the Man away, especially not his sudden disappearance. The power of the human mind though he could easily say he was in shock and he simply didn't see the man leave in his focus on Reddington. He can't even convince himself it was just shock, he especially can't explain the burns.

Cooper spends about thirty minutes on the phone before coming down the stairs and greeting him again. He'd found idle work in the paperwork he'd pushed off until then. Paperwork was never his favorite activity, but it did have a mind numbing capacity. He sits filling out and signing forms that will most likely never see the light of day in his lifetime until he sees Cooper descend onto the main floor.

“I got access to the CCTV footage and general security cameras in the vicinity of the park. Since we are now in uncharted territory now, anyone who isn't absolutely essential has the day off.”

Ressler's eyebrows crinkle. “Aram?”

“Not Aram. He's working on Elizabeth's lead. Reddington's possible true identity. Aram is essential to the team, believe me.” Cooper chuckles and continues. “Now. There are ten CCTV feeds in and around the park since a shooting in 2012. We have access to all of them plus store feeds on the outskirts of the park. We've time rolled them and synced them up.”

Cooper fumbles with the computers on Aram's desktop for a minute before the feeds start popping up on the screens. “Aram showed me how to do this once but it just might take me a second to, aha! Got it.” He looks satisfied with himself. Ressler can't really blame him.

The feeds start when Reddington showed up to the meeting. Ressler can see himself sitting at the Chess table. He can see the moments when his phone buzzed, it makes him curious what they said but he steels himself against checking his phone even now.

Cooper scrubs the footage until the actual meeting starts. Ressler sees himself all but prowl to the fountain but he doesn't seem to evoke any interest from The Unusual Man. Aside from Reddington glancing at him out of the corner of his eye he seems to go unnoticed. When he dips his hand into the fountain he notices an odd look from Reddington, some kind of astonishment it seems. At least to Ressler. He also notices that after Reddington looks at him The Unusual Man gives him a different odd look, indifference of a sort.

All of the events he recounted to Cooper in the last hour play out over the screens in front of him. He hopes that he didn't leave anything important out but he also can't recall anything else. Everything seems a bit hazy and he still feels that Reddington might stride in, Dembe on his heels. He looks to the yellow elevator for a moment before it sinks in partially that, maybe he really did he Reddington's skull fragment onto the pavement. The burn on his shoulder is another block on the quickly falling tower of reality falling on his head.

Cooper is absorbed in the surveillance footage so Ressler breaks and finally checks his texts from Reddington. He pulls his phone out and notices the screen has spiderweb type cracks all along the right side of the phone and the side of the screen is blotted with blue and blank ink like marks.

The very first text is time stamped around the time he got to the park. The rest are scattered close to the time before everything went to shit.

  1. R- A tad surprised you showed up.

  2. R- Do you even know the rules of Chess, Donald?

  3. R- Maybe I'll teach you sometime. If I survive this.

  4. Good boy. Sticking out like a sore thumb but at least trying. Once a fed though always a fed.




The last one makes him want to beat his head into the desk until he look like he came straight out of 'The Thing'.

The predictor in the third text is enough to make him halt. Reddington knew there was at least a chance that the situation could've turned out the way it did. He thinks that maybe he didn't text Elizabeth because of that possible outcome. Reddington couldn't care less about Ressler, and that's something he understands more than anything else. ~~Although he himself thought he hadn't cared.~~ After Reddington's true relation to Liz had come to light a lot of his actions had actually started to make sense, at least to Donald. Only in regard to Elizabeth though, the man still remained an enigma to him when it came to anything else.

He brings himself back to focus on Cooper. The moment flashing on the screen shows Ressler grabbing the mans wrist and recoiling. He flinches as The Unusual Man pushes him down on the screen. He glances away as his past self falls onto the pavement, He feels a pulsing in his shoulder as he remembers the feeling of the pavement on his skin. He nearly vomits as he looks to the screen again only to see what is seemingly a slowed down feed of Reddington's skull blowing out onto the concrete as he lurches backwards. He can feel the bile rising in his throat. It feels like watching Audrey's death, if Audrey's death was a soundless video with a lot more blood than he remembers there being.

He sees his crumpled body on the pavement, and as he watches the video further he notice the man disappear, not walk away, not run. Disappear. It's sudden and it startles both men. Cooper grabs a keyboard and scrubs the video frame by frame. The Unusual Man's red appearance and seemingly a mouth full of snakes are something that show through the video but as Cooper scrubs the video the man is visible in one frame and gone the next. Cooper continues the video and Ressler sees his past self pull himself off of the pavement and push his unburned arm under the criminals neck. He looks down at his grey sleeve and finally notices that it's crusted with Reddington's blood. His slashed, charred, bloody shirt is only partially telling the story of what hell storm he's been through. Noticing the blood on his shirt makes him realize he wants to be rid of the clothes and even rolling up the sleeves he notes that the blood has seeped through onto his skin. It's crusted into the hair on his arms and his skin. He shudders feeling nauseous.

A thought comes to mind and he blurts it. “What did you tell the other division directors.”

Cooper sighs. Taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I lied to them. There will come a day when I'll have to answer for it. I don't feel like the work of this task force is over though”

Ressler swallows the taste of bitter bile in his throat. “What did you say to them?” His voice sounds tired, even to his own ears.

“I told them Reddington faked his death in a sting on a Blacklister. I said we're drawing someone out. They would only come out if they knew Raymond Reddington was dead.”

“And my involvement in that...” He trails off but knows what the Assistant Director is about to say.

“I said you were part of the sting as an observer or a pursuing agent who set out to arrest a Top Ten lister. That's the official story and soon news outlets are going to air a heavily censored version of Red's death.”

* * *

Coopers office phone rings and he pushes himself up the stairs to answer it, skipping steps and pulling himself by the railing.

Ressler decides to find a change of clothes. Maybe a shower.

He looks up toward Cooper's office. He looks confused but occupied with whatever is being said to him on the phone.

Ressler descends into the makeshift locker room that the agents had 'build in' for long cases and possible torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know no Demon Reaper Red yet but be patient and give me a chance, please.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I've mucked this up.

He emerges from the shower without bandages but still feeling decently better. He digs a first aid kit out of Liz's desk. He plops it down, plastic cracking against the desk. He stumbles upon a lipstick he's very sure he saw her put in when they first got their shared office in the beginning. He grimaces, wondering if cosmetics get old like food. He tosses it into the trashcan on the other side of the room. He figures they do.

He returns to the war room floor and finds Cooper sitting in Aram's usual seat, Aram sitting at one of the other desks under the slew of monitors. He gives a slight wave to Aram and nearly drops the medical “kit”. He realizes the tee shirt that he found in his designated locker is cut close to his neck and rubbing on his burn. He decides to wait until later to address that one and hopes it doesn't make matters worse later.

Cooper is still running through a copied file and rubbing his face, in an especially stressful manner.

Aram gestures him over quietly. He props the medkit on the unmarked desk, prepping his hand for the gauze wrap bandage.

“Is it true?” Aram's face is wearing an expression of dogged sadness and overtone of fear layered over.

“Is what true?” Ressler knows, but part of him wants to avoid it for just a moment longer.

“Mr. Reddington. Is he..?” Aram chokes on the end of the sentence and can't seem to even say the word 'dead'. Ressler gets his gist anyways.

“Dead.” Ressler's tone is blunt and Aram immediately flinches. It fills him with regret and he wishes he hadn't said it that way. Aram feels the brunt of the loss right before his eyes and he wishes he could do something to comfort him but he doesn't even know how to even approach anything close to 'comfort'.

After losing Samar so soon before it makes Donald feel like even more of a dick.

Aram had come to know Raymond Reddington very quickly after being framed as a mole and calmly threatened while the man reassembled his gun. He'd recounted the fearful encounter to Ressler after he'd been cleared. They'd gone out for celebratory "you aren't a traitor" drinks. Aram had also built up a respect for Reddington and from Reddington's mentions of Aram it was mutual.

Aram looks a bit dazed. Ressler's guilt overshadows the pain he feels in his shoulder but not for long as when he tries to move to maybe vaguely comfort the other man he feels the tee shirt he put on peel away from the raw skin. He hisses and nearly doubles over.

He pulls his shirt down over his shoulder and hisses again as he feels the muscle move. He pressed the dressing over the wound carefully but by then Aram have seen it and really there's no reason to hide it from him in the first place.

Aram's eyes widen but he makes very obvious restrained movements to try not to mention it. He's not so subtle, even with his career experience. 

“I can't go through it again. Even explaining. Can't find the words. Maybe watch the CCTV or ask Cooper for a rundown. I need a break.”

Before he can sit down and deflate, Cooper hangs up the phone and vacates Aram's desk walking over to the desk against the wall, presses his hands against the desk before sighing long and exasperated.

“I've just received word. From the hearse carrying Reddington's body.” Coopers full body seems to lurch downward for a second before he continues.

“Reddington's body was stolen.”

Aram exhales heavily. “What happens now?”

“We'll wait and then 'leak' the news to a news outlet, and that will further the fake death scenario to superiors until we can get the body back.”

“Do we have a plan?” Even as Donald says it he knows it's a longshot.

“The body being stolen will tell them that maybe Reddington isn't actually dead. The possibility will delay their decisions on the shut down, if they're contemplating one. We need to find Reddington though.

Fast.”

Cooper put his glasses back on and Aram rushes back to his desk. “I need a trace on the hearse, it's a government vehicle so it has a standard lojack. Track the plates as a backup, H36-4SE.” Ressler cocks his eyebrow as the gag passes over the screen. “I tracked the registration, someone called Glen Carter is to blame for that. A joke from the DMV apparently.”

Ressler thinks how familiar the name sounds but dismisses it in favor of keeping his mind on the task at hand. It doesn't take Aram long to find the vehicle, but honestly Ressler hadn't really thought he'd waste any time. He tracks it within a square yard of a warehouse in the industrial park area adjacent to the one where the Post Office is housed.

Ressler makes his way there with minimal back up. Whatever this dust up is he doesn't want to spook the suspect. ~~If there even is one.~~ Cooper had presumed it was some bored teens looking for a thrill. At least that's what had happened with the body of a senator a couple months before. Donald fully expects to walk in to find teenagers 'Weekend At Bernies'ing with the body of FBI's most wanted.

He's sure that it'd be the worst scenario, but he also doesn't want to think about the alternatives. All things considered, especially with what he'd seen that day.

The agents surround the midsize warehouse and clear the perimeter. He focuses on gaining entrance. Tugging on his bulletproof he feels a chill run down his spine as he enters the main work floor. The vest and cheap suit aren't enough to protect him from the cold. He grips his gun with both hands as he notices the setting. Wincing when he curls his burned hand around the gun.

There are medical devices scattered on the ground, none of them plugged in. He sees a metal frame draped in clear plastic, slightly obscuring a medical bed from view. He uses his gun to part the plastic and winces as it crinkles. He freezes when he sees a man out of the corner of his eyes. The man is hunched over, sitting on a crate with his legs crossed. He's wearing a cap hat but it's not enough to cover the wound in the back of his head.

Ressler now has no doubt of the man's identity. As clear as day he sees him. The Concierge Of Crime.

Raymond Reddington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited.


	4. Chapter 4

The man doesn't budge as Donald walks behind him. He walks in front of the man but he doesn't move, he doesn't seem to even blink. Staring towards the floor, he starts to twist his head as Ressler walks around, like he's trying to shield his face for as long as he can. He still sees the damage the bullet did to his head. Through the shadows he sees the torn flesh and warped bone. There's dried blood covering the whole left side of his face and Ressler feels vile. He recognizes the man nearly immediately. 

He chokes on his own breath as he steps back.

Reddington looks up at him finally. “Was this the outcome you wanted Donald?”

Ressler falls to the floor, vomiting.


End file.
